Crippled with sickness, Smelling of death, You insist it feels good, Injecting yourself with this poison, Because isn’t numbness better than pain? Isn’t unfeeling better than feeling too much? Will you know you’re dying, Do you know this is killing you, Do you know what you say to me when you think you’re alone? You start crying over the smallest things, and then you smile and laugh drunkenly, collapsing on the floor, laughter. You always need more. Won’t you ever have enough?

I started off simply. “You remember, don’t you darling?” You shook your head, a small, sad smile on your face. “We walked along the beach..? It was about 10 at night?” Again, you shook your head. “Please, you have to remember… how the wind blew your hair wildly and sand got in our eyes. You hated the sand.” You burst into tears. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.. it’s alright.” You looked up at me with a tear stained face, “I just wish I could remember who you are.” Then I cried.

My world starts to spin. Black dots dance like a picture show across my eyes. The world sounds faint and faraway. I feel as if I’m floating. “Don’t throw up” I tell myself as my blood sugar plummets. And everything goes dark.

The world is crumbling down before me, one speck at a time. Soon the castle of my reality will be nothing but ruin. Maybe I can dig myself out of the rubble.. no. It’s pulling me in now.

I am alive once again. I realised I haven’t posted in like 5 months. I’m actually on vacation now, at a tropical paradise in Mexico. Life is hard and it’s nice to let loose, drink, sleep in, and enjoy. I’m in a hammock right now and I can hear the ocean. I’m truly at peace. It’s nice.

I have no motivation. My motivation is long dead, but with your help we can dig it out of its grave. Give me ideas for the next chapter of Tea Of Blood And Roses.

I feel like I’m drowning in dreariness. I feel like the sky is permanently grey. I feel like I need a break from all this, but they’d get worried if I tried. I feel like life is dragging on, dismal and broken and sad. Little flits of happiness are all I have.

For those of you who read “Tea Of Blood And Roses” feel free to give suggestions for how the story should go! Should I go more into Chaos’s past, or would you want more of the future? What character do you want to see more of? Should I add a love interest for Fehler? Tell me in comments! :)

Alone isn’t so bad. Alone is nice. Though, it’s their version, not mine. I still have my friends to talk to, but I’m told that my friends aren’t there. Is that true? I wonder. No, I can still see and hear. They usually come at night, my friends and me play. They touch me in ways nobody else does. People say I’ll let a girl touch me this way some day. I say no, I have my friends, it’s okay. I love my friends with all my heart. they say, we’ll hurt you if you don’t let us touch you in that way.

Mary, Mary, my dear. What troubles you so? That mirror won’t make you any more beautiful, you know. Scaring little kids, do you have no heart? Of course you don’t, you carved it out and stuck it on a pike. What is it you like? Seeing them scream so? They named a drink after you, you know. Say your name three times. Why? Mary, Mary, Bloody Mary.

“We’ll be friends forever, won’t we?” Nope. That movie broke my heart.

I have published a new book titled Tea Of Blood And Roses.

Thank you all so much! I never imagined that my stories would actually gain publicity, and now one of them #3 in poetry! I really appreciate all of you who have read and liked my stories. And for those of you who want more, I have recently released a new story! It has 6 chapters so far and I promise to update regularly. Thank you!

Save your joy and laughter, save your pointless tears, your emotions are meaningless, your feelings a mere speck of dust. Thought don’t run from lust, my dear, nor greed. For those emotions control you, those emotions you need. I can see through your eyes, I see what you want. Now, go and get it. Succumb to your lust.

Save your joy and laughter, save your pointless tears, your emotions are meaningless, your feelings a mere speck of dust. Thought don’t run from lust, my dear, nor greed. For those emotions control you, those emotions you need. I can see through your eyes, I see what you want. Now, go and get it. Succumb to your lust.

Save your joy and laughter, save your pointless tears, your emotions are meaningless, your feelings a mere speck of dust. Thought don’t run from lust, my dear, nor greed. For those emotions control you, those emotions you need. I can see through your eyes, I see what you want. Now, go and get it. Succumb to your lust.

Tell me this, what kind of God would create such a f*cked up world where children can get cancer and die?

I’m so tired. Every day now. Every second. I feel weary and old when I’m still young. My aches and pains keep me up at night. God, I’m so tired.

Thank you, Inkspired writers and readers! My story the skittering of rats now has 1K views, thanks to all you marvelous people! I’ll do something for you now. Tell me in the comments a story/book that you have written, and I will read it and give it a like! :)

As a kid, I used to love sugar. I’d eat sweets every day. They’d make me sick, but I’d always think it was worth it. Not I’m not so sure. Now I’m sicker than ever, and those sweets led me to death’s door. I get tired now, sometimes I faint. I’ve always hated shots, but now I get them everyday. Occasionally I’m enveloped with longing for a sugary snack, but that hospital bed is always waiting for me, so I just turn my back.

I have returned from the fires of Mordor to grace you with my glorious presence! :D

So, I won’t be posting for a few days, I’m having some health issues that I need to attend to. But Happy Hanukkah! :)

*while playing pool* My friend: “it’s over, I have the high ground.” *friend wins* Me: “I hope you fall off whatever high ground you’re on. I hope a mountain lion drags you off it by your bleeding head.”

I’m choking on air, gasping for breath. The tubes they put in me sting, I want to pull them out. the room is a blurry white haze. Some cartoon is playing on the TV, Curious George, I think. I can’t tell. Oh, now the heart monitor is slowing. Ah, it’s stopped. Goodbye.

I’d like to thank all of you so much for reading my stories and microfictions! It really means the world to me!

Harvesting the children's bones. Makes a tasty treat, So does when you season up their meat, With a pinch of oregano, and perhaps some thyme. Your dinner’s never second best, when children are laid to rest. So sit down and take a bite of oh so scrumptious child pie!

It’s funny how things change, really. I fear I’ve grown colder, my heart isn't as warm or welcoming as it used to be. My stoicism has become my defining trait. Though, I suppose there’s a reason for that, after all. When my daughter passed, a cold frost settled over the previously fruit bearing bushes of my life, killing them. If I try hard enough and come to peace with life, they could become healthy bushes again, but I doubt any fruit would ever grow like it once did.

Satisfying, oh so pleasing, makes me sigh with pleasure. The taste of your delicious flesh is by far my only endeavor.

Please donate to the make a wish foundation, they help sick kids have the trips of their dreams so they can forget about being sick just for a little while. I know what it’s like to be sick, and to have a person you love be sick. So please, even a dollar will help. Thank you so much!

As I look out on the morning sunrise and relish in its peaceful glow, I know. I know she is still here with me, she’s the breeze and the stars and the shimmering of the water as the sunlight reflects off its surface. My daughter is still here with me, if not in body, in spirit and soul. When she got sick, I despaired, but now I know she’s still here with me, even if she’s not right here grinning as she used to. She has a more laid back smile now, the glow of the morning sun’s reflection.

Grief is like a heavy coat. Enveloping you in it. Sometimes you wish to take it off, but then the cold chill of winter would hit you and you’d wish for it again.

We had a little green swing. You’d swing in it every day. Smiling and laughing. Even when it got rusted by rain and the hinges squeaked. I look out there every day hoping to see you laughing, with joy on your face as you swing up towards the heavens. Now only your heart will be there.

If only I could tell you how much I love you. But there is no word that big. If only I could bottle all the stars for you. To show you how much I care. We could do anything you wanted, my dear, anything at all. Only if you were still here. I never asked for you to leave me, I screamed at the sky when you went, if “take me instead” had some affect on the heavens, then maybe you wouldn’t be dead. I’ll miss you, my dear. Why couldn’t I have died with you? Why were you the one to get sick?

I remember your shimmering smile, the way that you laughed until tears poured down your face. I remember how you fell down and got back up again, grinning for all to see. Your strawberry blond hair flowing in the wind, as you harvested the last berries off our bushes, red juice dribbling down your chin. Even when you were in a plain white bed, medicine pumping into your veins, you smiled. One day, you grew fainter, but your smile never dimmed. But now I only have pictures of that loving grin.

Are you scared yet, my darling? Well, maybe you should be. You’ve lived with me for many years and yet you’ve never seen me. You’ve heard me in the night, when the floorboards creak and groan. Reassuring yourself it’s just the wind, and that you are alone. I won’t hurt you, I promise. I swear on my honor, you won’t get a scratch. But even if I don’t hurt you, you’ll eventually wind up dead. And when you do, oh boy. I’ll have a feast. I have to say that your organs will make a delicious treat.

Rain trickling down the windowpane Drops slipping and sliding off the surface Ending and beginning with a little drop A trickle of rain It leads to others Like life, in a way Where one ends, another begins Trickling down the curvy path of life

I stood over you. The blood was painful. Blood isn’t painful. It was painful because it’s not my blood. It’s yours. It’s like someone’s wrenching a knife into my heart every time I see it. It’s thick, and warm. It’s on my hands. It’s on my face. It’s everywhere now. I killed you. Oh, yes, I killed you. And you know what? It was… delicious.

I have updated and finished my short story “here” if you want to read it!

Hey, if you have an idea for a horror or tragedy book I could write, please comment your idea. The first person that comments with an idea, I will write at least a chapter for you to read.

A shiver runs down your spine. It’s long, bony fingers stroking your back. Whispering grievances of the long dead. You want to run, to hide. You can’t, because the fingers have caught you now. Moaning and hissing, whispering and wailing. Your heart speeds up as your feet try to, you work up the courage to turn behind you. And… You realize it is merely a tree branch reaching out to grab you, and the wind is what’s aggrieved.

Darkness fast encroaching Wind ceasing to blow a breeze Time itself seems to slow as you fall down on you knees Hacking up blood and ichor Like water but thicker Such is the consumption A dismal and grisly display A dysfunction in life’s precious play.